


Entice

by wanderingaesthetic



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: BrOT4, Gen, Other, guys being dudes, human/monster, it's not as bad as it sounds, or is it I don't know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 10:41:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3647259
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wanderingaesthetic/pseuds/wanderingaesthetic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A classic Final Fantasy monster decides Prompto looks tasty.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entice

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, I wrote a fic for a game that isn't even out yet. Hope you enjoy. :)

“ _Prompto_ ,” he heard someone whisper.

“Hunh?”

“What?” Gladio asked from just ahead of him.

“I thought someone said my name,” Prompto answered.

“No one said anything,” said Noctis from the front. It was late, and dark, and even someone who had never met the prince would know from his waspish tone that he was pining for his beauty rest.

“Are you sure of the way, Your Highness?” Ignis asked mildly.

“Yeah, I just…. Thought it was closer.”

The prince picked up the pace, and the three of them followed, the lights from the little lamps pinned to their shirts bounced wildly against the trunks of pine trees.

“Prompto,” a voice said again. It was a woman’s voice, so soft and low that she had to be nearby. Prompto stopped and spun to look around. There was no one. The others were still jogging up the path, not noticing he had stopped.

“Prompto, come to me, help me,” the voice cried desperately. He wondered how someone in such distress could sound so beautiful, and stepped off the path.

Maybe twenty feet from the path, his light fell upon the pale flesh and blonde hair of a woman, lying on her stomach on the ground. Her legs were hidden in the underbrush, and Prompto felt a tingling in his spine, a feeling that something was wrong. As Prompto approached, she lifted herself up with her arms. Prompto gasped and turned his head away.

“I—I’m sorry,” he spluttered.

She was completely naked, and she had full, soft breasts that made Cindy’s look modest.

“It’s okay, you can look,” she said. “I want you to look.” When Prompto did, she was already within arm’s reach of him. He saw a flash of her, mounds of curly hair framing a face pale and pinkly flushed and beautiful, like a princess in a storybook or a painting. Prompto had a sense that she didn’t move quite right before she tore the light off his shirt, switched it off and threw it in the dirt.

She wrapped her arms around him, and Prompto finally realized that something was not only wrong, but very, very wrong. He tried to push her away, but she was too strong. Her arms coiled irresistibly around his neck and his waist, and she pulled him into a kiss. Their lips met and all thought of struggle stopped, fear and unease overridden by all-consuming, maddening desire.

His hands groped at her breasts, into her hair, down her back. He desperately needed to touch every part of her, to become one with her. It was beyond lust, it was madness. He probed her mouth with his own, wishing to devour and _be_ devoured. His tongue ran along her fangs and he was untroubled. She bit his neck, and oh it _stung,_ oh it _hurt,_ surely it shouldn’t hurt this much, but if he could have formed words he would have begged for more. He realized as he ran his hands over her that the flesh at her hips gave way to smooth scales. He was terrified, but not disgusted.

She had no legs at all, but coils and coils of long, snakey tail, bigger than any boa constrictor. _Snake, she’s a snake,_ some corner of his brain was panicking, but she was twining around him, she was laying him in the grass, she was pressing her hands to his face, cooing, “Pretty, pretty boy. Beautiful boy.” Blood was pouring from the wound on his neck, soaking his shirt, but the rest of it was pounding in his cock. She was wrapping tight, tighter around him, crushing his chest. He couldn’t breathe. _I’m dying, I’m going to die,_ Prompto thought, but the only thing he felt was ecstasy. He bared his neck and hoped she would bite him again.

Lights flashed in the darkness, flashlights and the unearthly blue twinkle of the Armiger as Noctis warped into the monster. Prompto felt the impact through her, and she screamed, sounding exactly like a woman in her pain. Her coils released Prompto suddenly.  He could breathe again, but the loss of her touch was devastating. Ignis got there next. Steel glinted and his knives bit into her back and her tail.

“No. _No!”_ Prompto screamed, struggling to stand. They were _hurting_ her. They were _touching_ her.

“She’s mine! _MINE!”_ he shrieked, and his gun materialized in his hands, pointing straight at Ignis.

Strong arms grabbed him, and the shot went wide.

“Nuh-uh, kid,” Gladio rumbled in his ear. Prompto struggled to free himself, and Gladio wrenched Prompto’s arm behind his back, twisting his wrist and forcing him to drop the weapon. Prompto screamed in rage and frustration, and Gladio to hold him tighter, wrapping one arm around Prompto’s shoulder and neck and one around his waist.

“Let me _go!_ Let me go!” Prompto screamed and struggled in spitting, senseless rage, and as strong as Gladio was, he had trouble holding him back.

“You just want her for yourself!” Prompto screamed as he kicked and struggled.

Gladio clapped a hand on his mouth. “Shh, trust me, kid. Anything you say right now you’re gonna feel real stupid about in a— _ow!_ You _bit me!?”_

“Could we get a little help here?” Noctis rasped between blows.

“I’m _busy,_ ” Gladio retorted. “Hey, Iggy, you got a Remedy?”

“I’m somewhat preoccupied myself,” Ignis said, but nonetheless disengaged himself from one of the monster’s snakey coils, pulled a little bottle from his pocket and kicked it to Gladio like it was one of his blades. Gladio caught it, uncorked it with his teeth, and forced Prompto’s head back to tip the iridescent blue contents into his mouth.

Prompto struggled and choked and spit, but enough of the Remedy made it down his throat to counteract the monster’s venom. He went limp in Gladio’s arms, and fell to his hands and knees.

Gladio sucked in a breath through his teeth. “You’re _hurt,_ sorry, I didn’t realize,” he said as he healed him.

Prompto wanted to crawl into the dirt and succumb to a sick, guilty, shame, but Ignis’ arms were dripping blood, Gladio was running into the fray, and the monster was coiling around Noctis, hissing “ _Four pretty boys for me to devour_ ….”

Prompto stood. His weapon materialized in his hands and he shot, one, two, three, four times. Blood blossomed from the wounds in the monster’s chest, and it writhed and screamed as it died.

**

“What were you _doing_?” Noctis asked when they had finally made camp.

“I…” Prompto’s shoulders fell, and he stared down at his feet. “I heard a voice calling me, saying she needed help.”

“ _Lamia,_ ” Ignis said with disgust as he pushed eggs around his skillet. “Their voices entice, and their kiss can create a powerful, ah…” he glanced at Prompto. “Infatuation.”

“It kissed _you,_ ” Noctis said pointedly to Ignis.

Prompto looked up. He had missed that while he was struggling with Gladio.

“I am immune,” Ignis said coolly, and didn’t offer any further explanation.

_Ignis,_ Prompto thought sickly. _I almost shot Ignis._

Prompto looked at Ignis’ back while he cooked. As often as Prompto seemed to annoy Ignis, as often as Ignis insinuated or outright said that Prompto was going to get them all killed, Ignis hadn’t said a word about Prompto almost killing him. He said he was immune. Had he faced one of those things before? Or something like it?

“It knew my name,” Prompto said, sitting up as he suddenly remembered. “How did it know my name?”

“They have near human intelligence,” Ignis said. “It must have been trailing us and decided that you were the weak link.”

“Or that you looked the most tasty,” Noctis said before Ignis’ barb had the chance to sting. Prompto could feel himself blushing and hoped none of the others could see it in the firelight.

“Anyway, no more wandering off alone, okay?” Gladio said, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “For any reason.”

**

“You okay?” Noctis asked after Ignis and Gladio were asleep.

_Noctis is up late,_ Prompto thought. _Noctis is never up late._

Prompto laughed weakly. “Was it that obvious?”

“You seemed down,” Noctis said as he took the camp chair beside him. “And I thought, whatever happened back there must have been pretty rough.”

How could he explain wanting something he didn’t want? How could he explain wanting it so badly he didn’t care of he died or killed his friends to get it?

“Before you guys came back,” Prompto said slowly. “I thought I was going to die.”

“I would have warned you,” Noctis said.

Noctis' eyes reflected the firelight, and a chill ran down Prompto’s spine. He couldn’t believe that he had forgotten. It was easy to forget what Noctis was, easy to forget his powers as well as his royalty. Scary, in a way, that death favored Noctis, but comforting as well.

“It’s not just that,” Prompto went on, shaking his head. “I would have let her kill me. I didn’t care.”

“You weren’t in your right head.”

“Yeah, but… it felt the same.”

They sat in silence for a long minute while the fire crackled.

“You gonna be alright?” Noctis asked finally.

As long as Prompto had someone like Noctis looking out for him?

“Yeah, I’ll be alright.”


End file.
